Dobby: The Dark Lord's House-Elf
by Finley Flynn
Summary: When the Malfoys send Dobby to the Elf Correctional Facility for bad behavior, he meets Silky, Lord Voldemort's former house-elf, who reveals how the Dark Lord plans to return to power. But what can Dobby, an imprisoned house-elf, do to stop him?
1. Chapter 1: Elf Correctional Facility

**- CHAPTER ONE -  
Elf Correctional Facility**

"Your clothes are too clean," Malfoy sneered, and he overturned a nearby flowerpot above Dobby's head. Dirt rained down like hail, swatting his bat-like ears over his face. He closed his eyes to stop the specks of dirt and the tips of his ears from blinding him. "Now rub it in, Dobby! Rub it in!" Malfoy commanded, placing his hands on his hips and letting out a shrewd laugh.

His stomach sinking into his hips, Dobby immediately rubbed and pawed at the pillowcase clothing his tiny frame, trying his best to smear the dirt grains and chunks into his rags as deeply as he could.

Malfoy placed a finger to his lips, slouched to one side and inspected Dobby's newly soiled pillowcase for a moment. "Much better," he said finally. "Much, much better."

"Dobby is glad little master is pleased."

A cross look came over Malfoy's face and he shook a fist furiously in the air. Dobby bit his tongue, wondering what had provoked such a response. "How dare you call me – _little_!" Malfoy cried. "Go burn the tip of your nose on the stove! Immediately!" he ordered. "Maybe that will teach you some manners."

Realizing his mistake, Dobby bowed his head and sniffled. "Dobby is so sorry, _big_ master. Dobby will burn his nose until it is charred and bleeding and peeling, sir."

"Well, what are you waiting for then?"

Dobby let out a squeak and spun around, before heading to the kitchen.

"Wait a minute there, you little turd!" Malfoy called out, and Dobby, holding his breath, stopped short and turned back around. "Clean this up first," Malfoy demanded, motioning at the scattered pile of dirt on the floor. "Look at the mess you made! It's everywhere. You house-elves are vile, dirty little creatures." The corner of his lip curled.

Dobby knew defending himself and arguing would just work against him. "Yes, sir! Right away, sir! How could Dobby be so incompetent?" He figured out a long time ago that the trick was to second-guess the Malfoys – suggest a punishment less severe than they would give – and in doing so hopefully make things less painful for himself. "Dobby will burn his tongue on the stove too, to punish him for his incompetence."

"And let that be a lesson to you," Malfoy sneered, and left the room as Dobby, on his hands and knees, swept the dirt into a tall, neat pile with his hands.

Several minutes later, having ignited the stove and placed his nose on top of the warming, glowing element, Mr. Malfoy entered the kitchen.

"What are you up to there?" he spat, pinching Dobby's ear and yanking him off the stove. "Trying to burn the house down, are you?" He glared menacingly.

"Oh no, sir," the elf squealed in pain. "Dobby made a mess, and young master told Dobby to burn his nose and tongue on the stove as a punishment."

"Oh, very good," said Mr. Malfoy, releasing Dobby's ear and rubbing his hands together furiously as if they had been soaked in acid. "Carry on, then."

Dobby shook his head, cupping a hand over his now pulsating ear. It felt although it were on fire.

"Narcissa," Mr. Malfoy called, turning his back to Dobby.

"Yes, dear," Mrs. Malfoy responded as she swept into the kitchen.

"I was thinking of sending Dobby to the Elf Correctional Facility for while. What do you think?"

Dobby's eyes widened. The Elf Correctional Facility? From what he'd heard from the other house-elves, even living with the Malfoys was better than there. Anywhere, but there! Dobby threw his face over the steaming element with bubbling enthusiasm. It let off a sizzle when his flesh touched down.

"Why, has he done something wrong?" Mrs. Malfoy asked.

"Look, sir! See! Dobby is giving himself the most grievous punishment and will be well disciplined from now on!"

But Mr. Malfoy ignored him. "Does he ever do anything right?" Mr. Malfoy said, shooting Dobby a sinister glance. "Bellatrix was telling me that when her elf was giving her problems, a few days at the facility really got him straightened out." He wandered over to where smoke was rising from the tip of Dobby's nose as he winced, pushing it against the element. Mr. Malfoy observed him carefully, then grimaced. "These old-fashioned punishments just don't seem to be doing the trick anymore. Why, just last week he burnt a hole in one of my shirts worth a hundred Galleons with an iron."

"Dobby is most reformed, sir! He can feel his mistakes teaching him the lessons he is in dire need of!" A cloud of smoke was rising around his face from his burning flesh.

Mrs. Malfoy frowned. "But who will take care of things around here?"

"A substitute," Mr. Malfoy replied. "The Facility provides clients with another, well-mannered elf while their elf is undergoing discipline."

Mrs. Malfoy shrugged. "You're probably right." She glanced at Dobby, who was clawing at the stove in pain, swallowing his screams. "Perhaps he could use a little straightening out."

"Dobby!" Mr. Malfoy said in a raised voice.

Dobby instantly straightened up. Smoke was pouring out of his mouth because he had just pressed his tongue against the element. "Yes, sir?" His words were slurred.

"You will be going to Elf Correctional Facility."

His heart lurching in his chest, Dobby fell to his knees and crawled up to Mr. Malfoy's boots, grabbing at the gold-plated toes. "Please, sir. Please don't send Dobby away," he wailed. "Dobby is sorry for scattering dirt on the floor, and making young master yell at him."

Mr. Malfoy pulled his boot free from Dobby's grasp, then kicked him in the ribs. Dobby felt the wind rush from his lungs, as he flew several feet across the floor and skidded to a stop, bunched up into a heap.

"How dare you question my decisions!" Mr. Malfoy growled.

Shaking, Dobby rose to his knees and clasped his hands together, as if he were saying a prayer. "Oh, no, sir. Dobby would never dare question Master's decisions. Ever."

"Pack your rags," Mr. Malfoy commanded. "You leave at once!" And he stormed out of the kitchen, with Mrs. Malfoy following in his wake.

Dobby sniffled, rubbing his nose and letting out a yelp when his hands ran over the burns. Accepting his fate, he wailed and broke down into tears. They streamed down his cheeks as he sobbed. "Send Dobby anywhere, but the Elf Correctional Facility. Anywhere, but there!"


	2. Chapter 2: Bitty and Musty

**- CHAPTER TWO -  
Bitty and Musty**

Dobby stood on a dock in a line with a hundred other elves beneath the setting sun. They faced a great expanse of water, a dim light glowing like a beacon on the horizon. Bustling around them, wizards worked energetically to tie a gigantic boat to the dock with massive ropes almost the size of their waists. The boat had at least a hundred smoke stakes erected on top in a jagged fashion, all spewing streams of fog haphazardly into the night air.

"Alright you dogs," barked a grumpy looking wizard with straggly hair, "walk the plank!"

The line of elves started into motion. Dobby looked around as he shuffled his feet forward. He was free of the Malfoys and not yet a prisoner in the Elf Correctional Facility, which was located on the tiny island that looked like a speck in the distance. He wondered if he should make a break for it or even Apparate. But where would that get him in the long run? He would eventually be rounded up and face even greater consequences. Besides, where would he go?

Dobby hung his head in resignation as he stepped onto the plank. He followed the line through a doorway into a great hall that looked like the inside of a tin can, where wizards were instructing the elves to take seats on the grimy, metal floor.

That's when Dobby saw her, an elf with long eyelashes and a cute button nose. His heart seized up, followed by the sensation of butterflies fluttering around inside his stomach. Dobby couldn't take his eyes off her, and he rammed into the elf ahead of him. The elf turned and glared.

"Watch where you're going, buster," he grunted.

"Dobby is sorry, sir."

The elf followed Dobby's gaze with his eyes narrowed into slits, then grimaced. "Don't even think about it, buddy. She's mine!" He looked like a midget bodybuilder. If Dobby's arms were six sizes larger, they still wouldn't fit into one of this elf's biceps.

Dobby shuddered. "Dobby doesn't know what you're talking about, sir."

The muscular elf whirled around and grabbed the front of Dobby's pillowcase, pulling Dobby close to his face. "Don't play dumb with me, mate. Bitty's my girlfriend, and you'd do well to remember that!"

Dobby quavered, his toes nearly rising off the floor from the elf's strong hold on him. "Dobby is most aggrieved, sir. Dobby only –"

"Hey Musty!" an elf suddenly called from a group that had formed around Bitty, the cute elf. "Over here!"

Musty flexed his arms as he gave Dobby one last thorough shake before releasing him. "Stay away from her."

"But she's out of Dobby's league, sir. Dobby couldn't dream of attracting such a beauty. Not like you could, sir."

Musty grinned smugly. "That's right." Then he turned and walked over to join the group. Bitty threw her arms around his bull-sized neck when he approached and kissed his cheek, and Dobby exhaled wearily, letting his head fall toward the floor. Deep down, he knew he didn't stand a chance with an elf like Bitty. And besides, was it worth the risk of getting beaten up for? But Dobby suddenly straightened up. The Malfoys do much worse to me, he thought. This Musty character couldn't punish Dobby more than what he was used to, could he? And who knows? Maybe Bitty could fall for Dobby. After all, he was kind. He knew that.

"Find a seat!" yelled a wizard, who was now breathing down on Dobby, who felt the boat lurch into motion beneath his feet.

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir," said Dobby. He sucked in a deep death, pushed his fists down toward the floor and made in the direction of Musty, Bitty and the group surrounding them.

When Musty noticed Dobby approaching, he took a step forward, a frown pulling on his lips. "Hey, buster, what did I tell you?"

"Dobby is sorry, sir. He knows Musty told him to stay away from his girl, but –"

"You did what!?" Bitty shrieked, pulling away from Musty.

He grimaced as he crossed his arms and glared at Dobby.

"My name's Bitty," the cute elf said, extending a hand to Dobby and batting her long lashes.

"Dobby, miss." He took her hand and gave it a shake.

Musty growled under his breath.

"You three!" a wizard yelled several paces away. "Sit down!"

Dobby and Bitty exchanged glances, then stooped and sat down. Musty grunted, and did the same.

"So which family do you serve?" Bitty asked Dobby.

"The Malfoys, miss."

Bitty frowned. "Not a good lot, are they?"

Dobby smiled, but then let a frown transform his face. "Dobby shouldn't speak ill of his Masters, miss. If Mr. Malfoy heard Dobby speak ill of him, he would condemn Dobby to Elf Correctional for life, miss."

"Why did they send you here?" Bitty asked.

Dobby glanced at Musty, who was kissing his fist and glaring at Dobby with fury. Dobby let off a shiver.

"Dobby was a bad elf, miss," he stammered.

"I was sent here because my masters said I wasn't folding the laundry properly," Bitty confessed. "Elf Correctional has a course on folding laundry." Suddenly she lowered her voice. "Have you heard the rumors?"

Dobby furrowed his brow. "What rumors?"

"About You-Know-Who."

"Dobby has heard quite a few, miss. Dobby has heard he plans to return to power."

Bitty shook her head. "No, I mean about his former house-elf."

"Dobby never knew You-Know-Who had a house-elf."

"Oh yes!" Bitty exclaimed, bouncing up and down. "Rumor has it that when You-Know-Who fell from power, his house-elf, Silky, was transferred to Elf Correctional, indefinitely!"

Dobby shivered. "Dobby could not fathom being at Elf Correctional indefinitely." He looked at Musty who was flexing his biceps at Dobby with a seething stare. Dobby grimaced and looked back at Bitty. "Dobby wonders why they would keep Silky there so long."

Bitty looked around cautiously then lowered her voice again. "Silky was interrogated endlessly after You-Know-Who's fall. The Ministry feared that he may know too much. That's why they locked him up, to prevent him from talking to any Death Eaters."

"Dobby wonders if he knows any secrets about You-Know-Who."

Bitty nodded emphatically. "I bet he does, but he just won't tell. They say he's lost his mind, and can't think straight anymore. They say his mind has been tampered with so often that it caused him to go insane."

Dobby gasped.

"They say he knows how You-Know-Who plans to return," Bitty added.

"Dobby just thought of something, miss. What if Dobby and Bitty find Silky and get him to talk."

Bitty shook her head. "No, they say that Silky is locked up in the dungeon, where most elves never go."

"Dobby reckons there's got to be a way. Dobby thinks Bitty could help stop You-Know-Who."

"Ah, you really think so."

Dobby nodded, smiling. "Dobby knows we'll find him."


End file.
